The Question Game
by psychotropic
Summary: I knock on the door with a pale hand, the rings around the fingers gleaming in the milky porch light, and the wood swings away from me almost immediately. "Jade? What are you doing here? It's getting late."
1. Chapter 1

I knock on the door with a pale hand, the rings around the fingers gleaming in the milky porch light, and the wood swings away from me almost immediately. "Jade? What are you doing here? It's getting late." Her hair and face are illuminated by the bright lights from inside of her house.

"Tori, I need to show you something."

"Okay," she leans against the doorway, shrugging from the California winter wind, crossing her thin arms as her eyes stare innocently into mine. She's never done anything bad, has she not? She's probably only gone so far as making out with a guy, she's probably treated her parents well. "Earth to Jade?" she laughs a little, and I roll my eyes at how unknowing she is, how naïve.

"I'm coming in." I stick my hands further into my pockets and step inside, leaving her to close the mahogany doors on her own, her expression confused as she turns to face me, her arms swinging around back and forth carelessly, casually. Her house is quiet, too quiet, the same bowl of oranges on the counter as the last time I was here and the curtains drawn in front of the glass sliding doors. It smells like laundry detergent.

"So, ah, what's happening, Jade?" she shrugs, a little smile on her face. "Can I get you anything?" she steps around the living room, pacing around the couch, brunette hair bouncing just slightly. I want to snip it off so that it falls to the carpet.

"No. I just need to show you something, Tori. Privately, up in your room." I simply say.

"Oh!" she looks at me, the smile dropping off of her face. "Oh, okay. Promise me it's not scary?"

There's that smile again, the same fucking smile that she uses in every situation; at school, at home, in class, with Beck. I can't believe that she's using it on me, too. She's playing this little act, getting everyone to like her. So therefore, I return the smile. It's a toothless one, of course, my eyes unpromising.

"Come on." I grab her wrists and bring her up the stairs. "Your parents aren't home, are they, or Trina?"

"Uh, no, they're all out at dinner. I needed to stay home for a project. Also Trina isn't the best…ah, person with restaurant mannerisms, I don't know." She steps in front of me to turn the doorknob, her skinny fingers wrapping around the dimmed silver. "So, what did you want to show me?"

"It's…it's this really cool game that I learned from Andre." I pick at my long fingernails inside of my jacket pockets and fix my gaze on her colorful bedspread, strewn messily across her bed. She's standing in the middle of her room, looking curiously at me.

She trusts Andre, I know it. He's an innocent, good kid.

"Basically, you have to lie down, and close your eyes. I ask you a series of questions. After that, I turn on this meditation music and guide you through, let's say, a meditation, no shit. Then I ask you the same questions and we'll see how you answer them. Okay?" I explain slowly, my hands still deep in my pockets, hers fiddling around as she hesitantly sits on her carpet, and then lies down. I look around at the posters in her room. It's just like her locker, bright and cheesy, pictures of radio-play artists and the occasional indie band with a crowd big enough to say it's not one.

"Okay. Close your eyes."

As her long lashes hit her cheeks, I get down on my knees, slowly making my way towards her. "Question one. What is the scariest emotion that you've ever felt?" My jean-clad legs barely make noise on the floor, and my hands remain in my pockets. She has a desk in the corner of her room, her laptop resting open on it, next to books from our classes.

"Um…" I see her eyes move under her lids as she thinks, and she bites her lip, almost seductively. "I…I'd have to say fear. Well of course, I mean, I was in a haunted house this one night in October this year and it was terrifying, I'll tell you that." She laughs softly.

"What is the scariest place you've ever been, besides that haunted house?" I take her hand.

"Ah, um, easy, the school basement."

A typical answer coming from her. The occasional drug dealers hang around down there, the smell of air freshener and marijuana wafting from the vents, a flare for the principal to hand out suspensions. There's been endless creative stories made up about the basement, most of them coming from me.

My right hand glides out of my pockets and I take my left hand out of hers, and my fingers lower to her shirt hem, gripping it lightly and rolling it up, whispering to her to relax as I roll it up past her purple bra, her ample breasts resting before me. I let my fingers dance down her stomach, her heavy breaths moving it up and down. I slip the button out of the little slot for her jeans, and with somewhat prying, her jeans are down at her ankles.

"Jade," she breathes. "What are you..."

"Shh, Tori. Relax. Question three. What's the scariest movie that you've ever watched?"

"The…Friday the Thirteenth," she stammers as I trace my finger slowly around her left boob, then leave it, my right hand going back into my jacket pocket. "Jade, what is going on?"

"Shh. What's the point where you've been immensely terrified about something real, not just a haunted house, but real life?" I slip my hand into her bra and slowly squeeze her nipple, lowering my face down to hers, her hot breath on my mouth. She's so beautiful, the way her eyes dance under her shadowed eyelids, and the smell of her lip gloss is somewhat intoxicating.

She thinks. I see it in her expression. "Um…about right now, I guess, but I don't know exactly..." she stammers, stumbling over the words, still talking.

My right hand fingers wrap around the black handle, and I bring it out of my pocket, the silver blade glowing in the bedroom lighting, a glint as I lower it, and a smile creeps up onto my face.

"Now relax. Breathe in…" I barely whisper, my face centimeters above hers.

Lower. My gloved hand grips the knife tighter, and I ready it.

"…breathe out." I whisper even lower.

With that exhale, the release of nervous thoughts and hesitations, a confusion of why this girl would be at her house, the love and pain of the day, and down comes the knife, down into the body of Tori Vega.

My other hand has wrapped around her mouth as a scream curdles up and out of her, and her hands push and pry at me as the knife launches into her chest, her legs kicking, her eyes wide open and startedly, frantically, dancing up at the ceiling.

The blood coats the knife, something I worried about, and with dark, fast heartbeats, I launch the knife out; my thoughts, blood, mind and heart racing. I slice her stomach heavily, sharp slashes that break open the gates for her blood, staining her carpet as her back arches and she wails. I bring my hands up, gripping the slippery red knife and I grit my teeth, and only giving her so much time to utter an audible, "Stop!", I bring it back down into her chest.

She's over. The teen dream is over. I killed the teen dream.

I'm sitting up on her bed, looking over her. The room is silent and she's red, the carpet is red. Her eyes are wide open, rolled back up to the ceiling and her hair, once beautiful and groomed, is matted below her.

I slowly get up, my joints cracking as I step off the bed and to her laptop, slowly prying it open, and with a few clicks and moves of my finger, I've opened a new word document.

_Everyone,_

_I'm so sorry. I just couldn't take it anymore._

_Eternal Love,_

_Tori_

When her family gets home, they'll find her in a crime scene that no one has committed but the teen dream herself, the lights downstairs and in her own room where the blood lays on. They'll scream, they'll cover their mouths and stagger back into the poster-covered walls and beg for this to be a mistake, for her to be awake. The note on the computer will be found eventually, either from the police or from her parents if they are to search her laptop for some sort of note explaining the tragedy. They'll stop at nothing to find out how their little girl died, and if someone offed her themselves then they'll go get them.

But that's only when they get home.

I acted as an extremist to the smallest of problems.

I killed the teen dream, and with fast, heavy heartbeats and a numb feeling, I thunder down the stairs and out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews. I recommend you listen to Ave Satani on repeat from the soundtrack of the movie ****_The Omen_**** as you read this story.**

I sit in my room, rocking back and forth, Tori's words chanting in my head. _Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop._ She had screamed this as I broke her open, her eyes wet and red, mouth downturned, my hand fighting to mute her. The red flowed and entered the off-white carpet, a pure color sinned on. It's all a sin what I did, very unholy, and my hands shake, still feeling the knife inside of it, the handle warmed after being in my pocket, then feeling the slippery red liquid coating it. I wrap my hands around my legs as my vision slips out of my mind and I live in Tori's room.

The blood, everywhere. As I sit up on her bed, I see it all over her carpet, strewn over the discarded school papers and her jean jacket, the one she wore to her second kickback. She had such a smile that night, the gleaming white teeth shining in the yellow lights of the school parking lot, her hair angelically glowing. It was pure, the way she radiated, even when she pranced through the florescent lighting of the classrooms, which turned everyone's skin a muted purple hue. She even liked to make it clear that she shined, decorating her locker with the red light-up words and colorful stars surrounding it.

I clench my teeth hard, sucking in air through my nose. Her parents have in all probability found her by now, lying motionlessly on her newly unholy bedroom floor, their shrieks peircing the winter air, their shaking fingers clambering for their cell phones to dial the unfortunate combination of three numbers.

The paramedics will arrive, their solemn faces looking down at her as they scoop her up and onto the stretcher, her tearful parents in the corner of her bedroom, praying, absolutely praying. Even if they weren't very religious before, they'll be praying hard and strident, desperately asking for their beloved daughter to be safe.

She'll be driven with flashing red and white lights through the vacant streets, curious neighbors stepping out of their front doors to catch a glimpse of the scene pulling out of the Vega's driveway. _Must be an accident,_ they'll say. _Those girls, well, maybe not that Trina girl; are too sweet to do anything too terrible. Let's hope that they're okay._

What if she lives?

The thought alone makes my mind blank out, a blinding black taking over, freezing my thoughts and ideas, stopping my heart. The scenario plays out in front of me, the Vega family in Tori's hospital room. Tori is all bandaged up, maybe two days later after regaining consciousness, weakly explaining the tragedy. "It was Jade, _Jade West._ She had me come up to my room, and she…I don't know, I guess she just started, well, taking off my clothes, and then…and then she _stabbed_ me."

She'll definitely remember it was me, or maybe the blood lost will affect her precious, vital memories, but that's unlikely, I think as I rock back and forth harder, hoping, praying on my own for the best in my favor.

Her parents will be shocked. "We knew there was something about that girl, we warned you about her, Tori." They'll cover their mouths, immediately grabbing their cell phones once again to contact their family lawyer, and march straight to my doorstep, pounding on the door.

I consider at this point gunning it for my car and driving straight out of the state, but I recall learning that if you flee the state you committed a crime in, that's a bigger offense and it becomes federal.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. My mind swirls and my whole body is shaking, my stomach sick and green, my eyes blurring over. I need to scream, I need to disappear. Why did I do it? What the fuck was going through my head, why didn't I think this over better? Oh God, oh God. I have fucked this up so badly. Even if she doesn't live, I don't know how I'll live in my own terms. I'll be a wreck. I just now have a conscious, and like the own knife that beholds Tori Vega's sweet, red blood, it slices me, each slash sending a heavy, electric shiver down my body, the pain of the blade shaking me.

I feel myself open up and scream, my hands wrapped in tight, cold fists, beating the carpet senselessly, the numbness racking me as my shriek pierces the air.


	3. Chapter 3

My sinful fingers are wrapped around the cold steering wheel of my car as I coast through the neighborhood, my teeth clenched hard, locking my screams inside, shaking me as I grip the wheel tighter, and the skin on my fingers stings from the friction. Two middle-aged women power walk on the side of the street, and I feel a red hot wave quiver me. I could just easily tip the wheel to the right ever so slightly and plow them, the black patterned tires leaving prints on them, splattering their blood onto the gray pavement street.

Tori's blood; her carpet soaking it in, welcoming it, seeping, growing squishy as if the ocean had just flooded her room as well. Tori's blood; a deep crimson red, like a full-bloomed rose, the petals of it strewn around the crime, a beautiful, dark and twisted scene.

As another car drives past me I realize with the slightest sense that my headlights aren't on and I've just been relying on the houselights of the houses on either side of me, closing in on me, constricting me and the ladies, their screams muffled and suffocated, my laughter echoing out eternally until I'm swallowed whole.

With a sharp, abrupt turn, I'm quickly where I need to be.

The Vega's house. Very modern; jagged, uneven rectangular stones surround the wooded door that I knocked on earlier with my ringed hands. The plants next to the door need to be watered, and I unbuckle, sliding out of the car and slamming the door. My boots make angry thuds on the cold driveway as I walk up to the door and knock four times, that same sickly green feeling overtaking my lungs, imprisoning my breath.

I almost feel as if I am going insane, a sweet black color blooming inside me, and I undergo as if I am tumbling backwards, the knocking on the door echoing back to me. _Knock, knock._ With a blank stare and a hollow soul, I stand before the door, swaying, and no one answers. They've already gotten her, they've already found her. She's being treated, I know it.

So I step inside, turning the unlocked doorknob, the brass chilling the palm of my hand, clinking against the rings. A soft blow from the heating encases me, and I feel my hollow soul and heart clanking around within me with every step I take, further into the lit house. The stairs look like a mountain, I think, as I slowly close the door. They've really done a nice job decorating as the perfect family, dustless shelves and tables, red couches adding spice to the room, as Tori had said when Beck mentioned them one day, a day where all of us walked into this very house after school.

I bound up the steps, my hand gliding against the thin metal railing, a chilling sound born as my rings scrape alongside it. My hand leaves the railing and I turn in the hallway, heading straight for Tori's room, the light still off, the distinctive, metal-like smell of red blood, so much blood. There is so much blood in her room, so much blood in the world. Everyone has blood, therefore it is not a rare thing; it can be shared if safe, it can be drawn for revenge. It can flow out of the broken skin of a sweet, innocent teenage girl, one much like Tori Vega, screams breaking the chilled air. It is unusually cold tonight, even for December, making the screams of young ones sharper.

I place my unsteady hand on the doorframe, and my body is in the doorway, trembling from the spreading hollowness within the shell that is my own skin; the pale, milky skin that could be broken just as easily as Tori's. I stare into the dark of the room, the laptop screensaver sending colorful illusions onto the endless posters lining her walls. My eyes travel down, and I see the crimson blood coating the carpet, now dried, now a scarring memory strewn out in the open. I read somewhere that you can clean blood up, it won't stain everything, but that's depending on the blood amount, I would think. I wonder what her parents will do, if they'll buy an entire new carpet, or if they'll try to soak it up.

My thoughts are broken, shattered, as I hear an unmistakable utter, a painfully recognizable voice cutting through the darkness.

"Stop."


	4. Chapter 4

Tori is sitting on her bed, hands propped up at her sides, her eyebrows scrunched in with disbelief, hair mangled and blood coating her beautiful, split skin. Her mouth is wide open. "Stop." She repeats, and a great shiver wracks my body as I grip tighter onto the white-painted doorframe. She is illuminated by the moving screensaver, the moving colors swirling her and the blood that accompanies her figure.

My words tumble up all too quickly, and I begin to choke out the occasional disbelieving sputter. I feel the sickly green feeling and the red hot lava sensation rise up at the same time, and I nearly collapse, words sinking back within me as Tori's thin fingers tap in a rhythm . "That was quite a blade that you used, Jade." She lifts her hand and slowly brings it to her stomach.

With incredulous eyes I watch as she dips her fingers in one of the deep, dark gashes and lifts it back out, gleaming blood glazed over her skin, bringing it to her eyes to see closer. "I never really knew what my blood looked like, except for the occasional scrapes and bruises." Then she looks at me, her brown eyes drilling holes into mine, paralyzing me. "Would you like a closer look, Jade? I knew you'd always loved blood." She lifts herself off of her bed, joints creaking, and I hear her skin tear like thin cloth, the seam breaking. I cringe, and step one foot behind me as she starts moving towards me, like opposite magnets.

"Tori," I sputter.

She cocks her head; matted, bloody hair hanging down in tangles. "What?" she asks, blood spewing out of her mouth and dribbling down her chin, and I wobble, gripping the doorframe, and a burning hot feeling erupts within me as she takes one more step, and Tori's glazed eyes snap wide open as I let out a bloodcurdling scream.

I dart into her room past her, her bloody skin scraping against mine, and I grab the laptop, shutting it closed with my abrupt grasp, white-knuckled fingers gripping it tight as my scream breaks through the house. With shaky legs, I stumble over the dark red carpet, bringing my arms back, and bringing the laptop down upon Tori Vega's head.

Her shoulders hunch from the impact, her head bowing down, and she spins around, the glazed look in her eyes unfazed. "Jade! Ow!"

"Are you fucking alive, Tori?" my hoarse, mangled voice comes out deeply as I swing the laptop back down. "Are you fucking alive?"

Slam it down, break Tori Vega even further. The metal smacks into her head until she's down on the floor, writhing, grabbing her skull, fresh blood flowing out, lacing in and out with the older blood. Her fingers twitch and her legs swing in scissoring motions on the carpet. It's all red, the room dark but the hall light shining in, revealing the dim, twisted red, one crime following another.

"Are you alive?" she screams back at me, her eyes human, her face soft, the blood on her cheeks seeming almost natural. It scares me.

I hold the laptop in my fingers, but I can't feel it, I can't feel the floor beneath me, the musky air heating radiating through her vent under her desk. "Are you alive, Jade?" I feel as if I'm in the car with someone at a stoplight, sitting in the passenger seat, looking casually out into the rearview mirror, to see an empty front seat in the car behind us. I feel a sense of shock, questions running through my head. How did that car get there? Where will the car go when the light turns red, will it just sit there? These questions would run through my head numbingly, following the stream of subconscious thoughts in my brain, until I snap to my senses, realizing that the empty seat is just another passenger seat parallel to mine. It's not real, it's all in my head. Is this real? Is Tori really here, standing right in front of me, bloody and mangled?

"Why did you do it?"

I'm frozen, the words wrapping around me and suffocating me. She waits before me with expectant eyes and a less than vacant expression. I wonder if she won't take an answer. She isn't real, for all I know, after all. "Are you alive, Jade? Answer me! Would you ever kill me if you were truly alive, in your right mind?"

"Stop it, Tori. I'm not going to answer you, okay?" I throw my hands up in a shrug, my heart pounding, loud and clear, as I start backing up and into the light, but with a swift movement, a blur of flesh and blood, my arm is grasped and my breath is lost. I can't move anymore, she won't let me, and if she is alive or not, I don't know, she might kill me herself if I try to run.

"Answer me. Is it because of that one night?"

My heart explodes, my own blood quivering me as it paints the reverse side of my skin, the memories replaying in my head, the hands on my waist. The dimness of the bathroom, the single florescent light bulb, as it made both of our faces purple, the only light source in the place. Someone could've gotten murdered in there, and as I stepped foot in it, I immediately had entertained myself with that very thought. I was wearing the black corset that I had bought that day with the little lace ruffles at the top.

"Or was it for a different reason?" Tori crosses her arms.

"Tori, stop it." I say.

"Answer me!" she whines, stomping her foot, and I throw my head back, shutting my eyes tight. I shouldn't have walked into the house, I shouldn't have driven over here. I shouldn't have gotten myself into this mess, stealing the sharp knife from my kitchen and planning out exactly what I would say to Tori to distract her from the actions that I intended to do. I had actually gotten the legitimate idea at that very night, the sickly sweet thought budding inside of me. I had been lying on my bedroom floor, thinking those very thoughts about Tori prancing around in the hallways, acting like she owned the school, being everyone's favorite little person; until I had a thought that was the same wording, but not the same ideation as my repetitive other ones on the subject of Tori Vega.

Yes, I had always muttered or thought, "I'm going to kill her some day, I swear," but this thought was different, it felt solid and heavy, and as I thought, sprawled out on my carpet at ten forty p.m., a subconscious plan bloomed within me, a smile creeping up on my lips, and I found myself off the floor in a tunnel vision state of mind.

"Did anything happen earlier today?" Tori cranes her neck a little so that she can see my face, and I snap it back upright, setting my cold expression into view.

"Yes, actually." I speak through clenched teeth and feel my mood change, something untypical, and her eyes grow just as icy as mine, and she outreaches her hand into mine with a tug.

"Let's have a little talk, Jade."


	5. Author's Note

A/N: Hi guys. I am really sorry but this is not a chapter, and I was working on it until I got grounded again and now my laptop is gone, along with the document. Once I get my laptop back I will proceed writing it as normally, but I definitely have plans with the story and where it's going.

I'm on one of the school computers right now, that's how I'm typing this.

I'm feeling kind of sorry but I'm not at the same time about the cliffhanger. In the meantime make up your own ending as to what will happen between Jade and Tori.

I also have a new story published called "Bitter", but I will probably end up changing the name and summary on it.

Following back up to my friend mooncheese1331's comment about me on her story "Roadwork", yes, Jori frustrates me, but that doesn't mean I don't like them. I always seem to be stuck between two opinions on something, especially in this case, the bittersweet Jori ship.

Sorry for not updating Red Sea either. I have plans for that as well, but I have not updated it recently or gotten to typing the next chapter.

I'll see you all later on the website and I hope that I can update the stories as soon as I hope I can!

-Kat


	6. Chapter 6

She stands up from the messy bed, her face barely illuminated by the last of the light of the room from her curtained window, outlining her coveted cheekbones and tangled hair. "So, before we ask the ultimate question of why you did this to me, I would like to answer some of your questions." She simply says in a stubborn voice, which angers me. I leap up from the bed myself, grabbing her shoulders, feeling the crusted blood.

"Are you making this into a fucking game, Tori?" I yell.

"Jade!" she shrieks, prying my hands away from her thin upper body, her own death grip on me, transferring me to the carpet. "Don't test me. Not here, not in these conditions. I need to talk to you. Do you remember the day where you pretended to get hurt when we did the fight scene? Do you remember?"

"Yes, I fucking remember!" I yell, her eyes narrowing . The tips of her hair tickle my cheeks, a sharp, irking sensation, and I want to snip it all off, but my scissors or blade are all at my house. God, why didn't I think of bringing them? But then the thought of the police prowling the house and neighborhood for clues, anything to find out who killed this beauty. I would end up walking in the unlocked front door, carrying a blade with Tori's DNA slathered on it, and that would be the end of me. Half-efficient intelligence, it wasn't really my fault.

"Why did you do that, Jade?" she lowly speaks, specks of spit landing on my face, my mouth scrunching closed. "You put on makeup for a reason, you told everyone how I had hit you. You tried to turn the scene around on me. What have I ever done to you to deserve that, Jade?"

The answer, wordless, is lodged within my chest like a chunk of wood, the blade is used to kill her stuck inside of it. I know it's there, and I don't know what it is; there is no way in hell that Tori will be able to make me find it, or none the less reach her hand within me, prying out the key, blood and guts coming out with her. It would kill me. It would kill me.

"Answer this first, bitch, are you fucking alive or dead?" I scream, craning back my neck the best that I can and I get up what I need, spitting on her face. She squeals, grasp loosening, and I bend my jean-clad knee, knocking it into her lower abdomen, and I find myself out from under her, sprinting for her door, my hand outreached for the light, eyes enflamed. The hallway ignites with desperation, red hot flames licking up the walls and the staircase. I feel my lungs, the way they fight to get in pureness, my hands spread out before me, lost. The blinding flames close me in as screams work up in my suffocated lungs; coughing. Desperation. Tori stands before me, an unusual smile on her defined face.

Her eyes unfamiliarly glint, the fire in her eyes. "Does it burn, Jade?" Her reflection is in my eyes and her figure is growing larger in dimension, her hair wild and on fire, enflamed, screams echo from my own body. Her hands are outreached, her stature split into three, different multi-colored copies of her original self, red everywhere; the blood, the flames…everywhere. She's in a triple, demented form and I scream as the red touches my pale skin, white burning to black, the flashing colors of screams and horror. "Does it burn, Jade?" her own shrieks rise over the flames and I gasp, for anything, for air, sanity, mercy. None of which I will get; the pigs have come and are winning. I need to get out of this, I need to get out of this, I need to get out of this. Desperation. Screams echo from my chest and I claw at the walls, wallpaper tearing and coating me, silent. Tori walks towards me as I lay there, heaving and paralyzed, mind solidly stuck on the question of why she would do this to me. Insanity, the monster within has grabbed me by its blood-coated talons and tears up my psyche. Tori's grin breaks into a Glasgow smile-like laughing shape as she nears me and squats down on the floor. The flames stop and I feel like I've been doused by a high-pressure hose. "Does it burn, Jade?"

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this chapter was so short.**


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